Shelby, the Pussy Man

Info silverhawk
24 Sep. '19

What the fuck is it with guys today?  I mean, honest to God, men are all turning into pussies. 

First, we had “metrosexuals”, guys who always dressed in the clothes all the magazines showed the male models wearing.  I thought they were just gay guys who hadn’t admitted it yet, but all the magazines said, no, they were normal guys who liked looking like magazine models all the time.  One even said they dressed like that so people would look at them, because people looking at them was the only way they knew they really existed.  All I ever needed to know I existed was a half-way decent fuck once in a while, well, and some really good scotch to go with my cigarettes.

The next thing that happened was all of a sudden, men weren’t suppose to get gray hair like about all men do at some point.  Women used to think gray hair on a man was sexy.  Now apparently they don’t, because there are hair dyes for men to “target those embarrassing gray areas in the privacy of your bathroom”.  At one time there was spray paint you could use to make your bald spot kind of the same color as your hair.  You can even dye your fucking moustache and beard now.

It got worse when guys started to let their beards grow out.  He has to use a special beard comb, special beard soap, special beard shampoo, and special beard conditioner.  The shaving aisle at Walmart is starting to look like the women’s hair care department.

Speaking about hair, now guys think they have to shave their chests and some even shave their pubes.  Like with beards, there’s a shitload of special crap you need if you’re gonna shave your balls.  Me - anything with sharp edges close to my balls makes me cringe.  Real men have hairy balls and chests anyway.

We also have men’s makeup now, and that’s going too goddamned far.  They advertise you can cover embarrassing blemishes and color in your eyebrows.  I mean, I know John Wayne wore makeup for his movies, but it didn’t make him look like a goddamned woman like some guys do anymore.  It made him look like a man you didn’t fuck with.

Don’t talk to me about guys who are twenty five and getting braces so all their teeth line up perfectly.  If they’d quit taking fucking selfies to post on the web, nobody would give a shit what their teeth look like.  

It takes me all of thirty minutes to roll my ass out of bed, piss, shave, shower, and get dressed.  It must take these guys at least two hours like it always did my ex.

Men have also changed for the worse in other ways too.  When I was in my twenties, what men worried about were two things - did we have beer in the fridge and if Mary or Ellen or Judy or whoever was going to put out on at least the third or fourth date.  Now, these young guys want to understand and sympathize with a woman instead of fucking her.  They call it “rejecting their toxic masculinity”, like being a real man means you should have to wear some yellow OSHA label on your forehead, like, “CAUTION, KNOWN TO CAUSE STRESS TO FEMINISTS”.

I have to deal with men trying to act more like women, but there’s no goddamned way in hell I can respect somebody like Shelby Anderson.  

They say first impressions are usually right, and Shelby wasn’t giving me one I thought much of.  His T-shirt said “Boys Cry Too” on the front, his shorts looked more like boxers than pants, and he was wearing those fucking plastic shoes they call “clogs” with no socks, and the goddamned things were pink.

My first impression was Shelby was gay, but that would have been all right with me.  Gay guys don’t bother me at all - to each his own and all that happy horse shit.  I’ve had a couple as clients and except for liking other guys, they were OK.  I don’t pretend to understand why one guy wants to fuck another guy, but if that’s what they want to do, far be it from me to judge them.  I have my own problems to worry about.

No, what turned me off about Shelby was the story he told me.

“Mr. Meers, I want you to find my wife.”

“I can do that if you give me some information.  What’s her name?”

“Her name is Angela, Angela Marie Salvador-Anderson…with a hyphen.”

He smiled then like he’d done something wonderful.

“The hyphen was my idea.  I didn’t want Angela to lose her personal identity.”

I wrote that down on the notepad in front of me.

“OK, I need a description too – age, height, weight, hair and eye color, and anything else that will help me identify her when I find her.  If you have a picture of her, that would be great.”

Shelby frowned.  

“I don’t have any pictures of her.  I want her to always be happy with how she looks at the time.  Pictures would just be reminders when she gets older of how she looks now, and if she changed then, she’d be sad.  

I think she’s pretty though.  She’s nineteen, and she has long brown hair and brown eyes because she’s Hispanic on her father’s side.  She’s a little taller than I am, so she’d be maybe five feet four inches.  I don’t know how much she weighs because a man should never ask a woman that question, but she’s really slender except for her top.  She’s pretty big there.”

“Any birthmarks, tattoos, anything like that?”

“Well, she has a birthmark that looks like a dove on her left hip, and she has a tattoo on her right ankle of one of those Celtic rope things.  Angela said the tattoo made her feel free.  I don’t particularly like it, but it’s her body and if she chooses to decorate it, she should have the right to make that choice.”

I wrote all that down and then asked Shelby when he’d last seen her.  He sort of wrung his hands together before he answered.

“Two weeks, three days, six hours, and…”, he looked at his watch, “about twenty three minutes ago”.

Well, I’ve heard some crazy shit from people before.  Sometimes they do wait a while before they start looking for that lost person, but they’ll usually screw up their face and then say something like, “I think it’s been about a week”, or, “Gosh, it was back in high school so it must be, let’s see, about twenty years now”.  Not once has anybody ever given me a time down to the minute.  

“What was she doing that time, anything odd or not something she’d usually do?”

Shelby smiled.

“No, we’d gone to march in a Pride march and after it ended, she said she’d met some new friends and wanted to spend some time with them.  She said she’d catch a cab home because she didn’t know how long it would take and she didn’t want me to have to wait.  She’s always thinking about me that way, only this time, she just never came home.

“I wasn’t too worried about her at first because when we got married, I told her  that she was her own person and I was my own person, and that we wouldn’t let our marriage get in the way of our own personal goals and needs.  She’s done this before, stayed over a few nights with friends in the feminist movement, but she always calls to tell me where she is.  She didn’t do that this time.”

Well, that was odd too.  Most cases where a spouse leaves they don’t just leave.  There’s usually a fight about something and one spouse decides enough is enough.  More often than not, they’ll leave a note saying they’re not coming back and why.  I even investigated one case where the wife wrote “I’m fucking leaving you because I fucking hate your pathetic fucking ass” on the side of the guy’s new yellow Corvette, and she used a purple, permanent marker to do it.

The other thing was, if she did just disappear, most guys would have called the police at least the day after if not sooner.

“Did you talk to the police about this?’

Shelby shook his head.

“No.  I know Angela needs her space and I respect that.  If I’d called the police and they found her, she’d think I was intruding on her private life.”

Almost nothing Shelby had told me made any sense if he was really married to Angela.

“How long have you two been married?”

“Three months, one day, and…”, he looked at his watch again, “four hours and about eleven minutes.”

A shrink would call that being anal retentive.  I’d call it fucking nuts.

“I need your name, address and phone number so I can get in touch when I find her.”

The guy pulled a red wallet out of what looked like a woman’s purse he had over his shoulder and handed me his driver’s license.

“It’s usually easier if I do it this way.  The spelling of my first name is a little different.”

His name was Gale Shelby Anderson.  I figured his mother must have been expecting a girl and couldn’t think of any boy’s names after he was born.  It was either that, or she was a bitch with a really sick sense of humor.

When I handed him his license he said, “I go by ‘Shelby’.  ‘Gale’ sounds a little feminine to me.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking.  I could understand him not using “Gale” because it did sound feminine though it’s usually spelled “Gail”.  I also knew a woman named “Shelby”, so that sounded even more feminine to me.  

If you ever saw Shelby Miller, you’d understand.  I’d helped Shelby find out who was stalking her and got his ass arrested.  I could see why the guy had been watching her though.  Shelby was about five feet nine inches of long slender legs, hot round ass, and tits that made me wonder if I’d need both hands to hold just one of them.  She had long blonde hair half-way down to that hot ass, and her face looked like the face in a cosmetics commercial.  

I watched Shelby’s house for a week to take pictures and video of anybody who seemed to be hanging around.  The same guy kept showing up about half an hour before she came home from work.  After that week, I had video of him sitting on her porch waiting for her to come home and video of him walking away after she drove by like I told her to.  A couple days he was late getting there in the afternoon, but I got video of him walking around her house and looking in the windows to see if she was home.

When the police got to his house, they found about a hundred pictures of Shelby on his cell phone.  In most of the pictures, Shelby was shopping or working in her yard, but a few had to have been taken through her bedroom window.  She wasn’t in any of those pictures, so I suppose the guy took them when she wasn’t home.

In a way, I felt sorry for him.  Homer Boggs was about five two and skinny as a rail, and…well, you know the guys they always have in those movies about Appalachian Mountains rednecks, the ones where the guy’s parents are first cousins…

He’d said “Hey” to Shelby one day in the grocery store, and when she smiled at him, he just knew that meant she liked him.  He told the police he wasn’t stalking Shelby.  He was just trying to get up the nerve to ask her out on a date.  That was a little weird too, because he was twenty and Shelby was forty-one at the time.  

Shelby was just a nice woman who smiled at everybody.  She’d smiled at me when she told me what she wanted me to do.  She’d smiled at me when she thanked me for finding the guy.  She’d smiled when I told her Homer was in jail awaiting a bail hearing and at a minimum would receive a restraining order to stay away from her.

Anyway, I finished writing all that down and then looked over the page to see if I’d missed anything except asking him the obvious question.

“Shelby, I know this is kind of a hard question, but is it possible Angela is seeing someone else?  It does happen.”

I swear to God, he got tears in his eyes then.

“I thought about that.  I thought about that over and over, but I can’t bear to let myself think that would ever happen.  Besides, I know all her friends and they’re all women.”

“Well, sometimes that happens too.  I don’t know why but sometimes a woman will decide she likes other women.”

Shelby wiped his eyes.

“No, I’m sure that’s not the case.  She does know some lesbians because we protest with them too, but she told me she did that because she agreed with me  that women should be free to choose the life partner they want, not because she liked women.”

“OK, I’ll start looking but I do have to be paid for my time.  My fee is three hundred a day with two days in advance.  If I don’t find anything in two days, I’ll call you and you can decide if you want me to keep looking or not.”

Shelby pulled out his red wallet again, opened the third pocket from the front, counted out six, hundred dollar bills, and handed them to me.

“I want you to look until you find her and money isn’t a problem.  I’m a senior graphics designer and I’m doing very well.  Just find her for me.”

I said I’d start that day and I’d call him as soon as I found out anything.

Once he left, I lit a cigarette and went over what he’d told me.  I could see why Angela might have left him because I’d talked to him for all of ten minutes and I already wanted to strangle the dipshit.  I couldn’t imagine living with the asshole if he really thought all the bullshit he’d told me, and apparently he did.

I had a lot of questions I needed to get answered somehow because there were a lot of things he’d said that didn’t make sense to me.

I mean, who in their right fucking mind would say something like they wouldn’t let their marriage get in the way of what they like to do?  I thought people got married because they liked doing things together.  That’s why I got married.  It didn’t turn out that way because my ex didn’t like anything I did, but that’s why I did it, well, that and the fact she had big tits.

They did apparently go to feminist and lesbian protest marches together, but even though my ex thought I was an asshole, she never just left and said she’d be back when she got done doing whatever it was she wanted to do.  Usually, she’d drag my ass along with her so she wouldn’t have to drive and carry all the crap she bought, well, until she decided she’d rather do it herself and divorced me.

The three months they’d been married was also weird.  Most couples are still fucking twice a day at three months, or at least that’s what Sarah told me she was doing.  If Angela felt the need to leave after only three months, there must not have been much of a marriage to begin with.

When you start looking for someone, you pretty much have to start at the last place somebody saw them unless you have an idea of where they might have gone.  Angela could have gone anywhere, so I’d have to track down somebody who knew her from the protest marches and see if they knew where she’d gone.  They might not, but they’d know somebody else who might.  I might have to talk to a dozen or more people, but eventually, I’d find her.

The only problem with me doing that is I don’t get along very well with the goddamned fucking feminists.  I have met a few, but they think I’m too long on being a male and too short on understanding women.  They always get pissed at me, like this one broad did when I held the door to a building open for her.

Now, I admit I was watching her because she had really nice tits and I wanted to see if the ass in her little shorts matched, but I thought she’d think I was just being nice when I held open the door for her.  She stopped in front of me, frowned, and said she didn’t need some fucking misogynistic man to open her door for her.  

That pissed me off, and when I get pissed off, sometimes I say things that pop into my head.  It’s possible I might have said if she’d get one of us fucking misogynistic men to fuck her really good once in a while she might not feel that way about us fucking misogynistic men.  I don’t really remember.  I do remember the way she turned around and stomped off muttering under her breath about asshole men who think a woman is only good for sex.  Her ass was pretty hot, though, so she probably would have been a great fuck.

Anyway, it wasn’t going to do me any good to talk to any feminists, but I did know a few lesbians, so maybe one of them could give me a lead.  I thought it was highly probable that Angela had decided she liked girls, and most women in the lesbian community at least know somebody who knows somebody who just got a new girlfriend.  

I thought that because if Angela married Shelby, she must have liked men with a soft side.  Shelby was anything but a man’s man.  Shelby was pretty much a girl except he had a cock and balls and no tits.  Well, I assumed he had a cock.  If he had any balls, he sure wasn’t using them.  It probably wouldn’t be that big a change for her to start fucking a woman if the woman had one of those strap-on rubber cocks.

I looked through my address book for the phone number for Tiffany Rogers.  Tiffany and I became good friends while I was tracking down her twin brother for her.  Tiffany had shocked her whole family when she came out, and they told her they didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.  Her dad was one of those Charismatic preachers, so that probably had something to do with it.

Tiffany moved from White House to Nashville and got a job, but a couple years later, she wanted to get back in touch with her twin brother.  I gather she and her brother were pretty close, and he didn’t really look too happy when her mom and dad told her to get out.  She thought if they got together, she could explain things and maybe he’d decide she wasn’t the evil sinner the rest of the family thought she was.

I found her brother and got them back together at the Wild Horse one afternoon.  It was interesting how much alike they looked.  It was also interesting that Jeff brought his boyfriend along.  When I left them, Tiffany had called Joyce, her girlfriend, to come and join them.  They were going to have something to eat and then do some line dancing.

Tiffany answered the phone on the third ring.

“Hello”

“Hi Tiffany.  It’s Harry, Harry Meers.  Remember me?”
 
Tiffany chuckled.

“I remember you, Harry.  You’re not calling me so you can to try to convert me again, are you.”

“Now, Tiffany, I never did that.”

She chuckled again.

“Yes you did.  You got me drunk and then took me to bed.”

“No, I didn’t. You got yourself drunk.  All I did was keep filling your glass when you asked me to.  If you remember, I put you in my bed and slept on my couch that night.  I never touched you even once.”

“Well, you did grab my boobs.”

“That was just when I picked you up after you fell down.”

“It sure seemed to take you a long time to pick me up, and you kept squeezing my boobs while you did.”

“Well, I had to hold on to something.  You weren’t helping any.”

Tiffany giggled

“I’ll bet you liked it though, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t…well, I did, but that’s not why I did it.”

Tiffany chuckled again.

“OK, if you’re not going to try to convert me, why did you call?”

I explained about Angela and asked if she could help me.

“I’ll buy you dinner and we can talk while we eat.”

“Can I bring Shelly?”

“I thought Joyce was your girlfriend.”

“Well, she was, but she sort of changed her mind.  She’s with a guy now.  I met Shelly after that and we get along just fine.  You’ll like Shelly.  She won’t like you at first, but if you play nice, she’ll come around.”

I said she could bring Shelly and we set the time for six that night at a Mexican restaurant on Gallatin Road.

Tiffany was right about Shelly.  Tiffany is pretty hot, but Shelly was smoking hot from her big smile down to her big tits down to her sexy round hips.  It didn’t hurt that she was wearing a frilly blouse that barely fit over her big tits and jeans that fit like body paint.  I’ve never understood how women get their asses in jeans like that.  It’s a bitch to get them off so it must be even harder to get them on.

While we ate, I explained to Tiffany about Angela and asked if she remembered Angela and Shelby from any of the gay protests.  Before she could answer, Shelly said, “Shelby?  I thought you said Angela was married to a man.”

I had to grin.

“Shelby is a man.  His name is Gale Shelby Anderson, but he thinks Gale is too feminine sounding so he goes by Shelby.”

When Shelly laughed, I knew I was going to like her.

“Shelby isn’t any better.  I know a girl named Shelby.”

“Yeah, I had the same thought, but he’s a guy, kind of.”

Tiffany giggled.

“What does ‘kind of’ mean.”

“Well, he was wearing a T-shirt that said ‘boys cry too’ and his shorts looked like red boxers and he was wearing pink clogs.  He seemed to be really in touch with his feminine side because he cried a little there at the last.”

Shelly had her brow wrinked like she was trying to remember something.  She looked up then.

“Was he short and skinny?”

“Yeah, maybe five two or so, and he looked like a decent wind would blow him over.”

“I remember a guy in pink clogs, so I think I know who you’re talking about.  Is Angela tall with long brown hair and really big boobs and a great tan, except not a tan but more like she’s Latino?”

I nodded.

“That’s how he described her.  Where did you see them?”

Shelly frowned.

“I went to one of those feminist protests and they were there.  The guy seemed like he was all for the feminist movement.  She, maybe not so much.  I didn’t think much of either of them, but then, I didn’t think much of the other women either.  I thought they’d be protesting for women’s equality at work and in politics.  What most of them were, was just women who seem to hate men.

“I didn’t have a girlfriend and I thought I might find one there, but they weren’t lesbians either.  I don’t know what you are if you hate men but aren’t a lesbian.  Maybe they just don’t like sex.  I thought a lot of them didn’t like being women either, because they didn’t do much to make themselves look better.

Shelly smiled at me then.

“I don’t hate men.  I wouldn’t fuck one on a bet, but I kinda like some guys.  They come in handy for carrying stuff and changing tires and fixing the toilet when it won’t stop running.

I asked Shelly if she’d seen Angela in the last couple weeks and she nodded her head.

“I think I saw them at the Pride march that was about then.  If it was the same couple, they were like before.  He was all excited to be there and she looked like she’d be happier cleaning the hair out of the sink drain.”

“So you don’t think she might have decided to get a girlfriend?”

“Not unless she changed a lot.  I saw a couple of girls talking to her, but she just shook her head and they walked away.”

I was running out of ideas fast.

“Was there anybody there she seemed to be friendly toward either of those times?”

Shelly screwed up her face again, and then smiled.

“Well, there was this one guy at the Pride march.  He wasn’t part of the march though.  He was one of the cops there to make sure nothing got out of hand.”

That was the lead I’d been hoping for.

“Do you remember what type of uniform he had on?”

“Well, sure, because he stood out like sore thumb.  He wasn’t out on the street with the rest.  He was kind of back in the alley and he had on all that stuff like the Army guys at Fort Campbell wear except his was all black.”

“You’ve been to Fort Campbell?”

Shelly grinned.

“Yeah.  I met this girl three years ago at the Lipstick Lounge.  She was a Communications Specialist at Fort Campbell.  We watched the fireworks together on the Fourth of July.”

Tiffany grinned.

“I’ll bet that’s not all you did.”

Shelly smiled sweetly.

“Let’s just say Melanie really knew how to communicate once we got back to my apartment.”

As I drove back home that night, I was feeling better about the case.  I had a lead, not much of a lead, but it was something.  If the guy was wearing blacked-out riot gear, he had to be part of the Nashville PD SWAT team.  There aren’t a lot of those guys and they change pretty often because the Nashville PD isn’t big enough to need a full-time SWAT team.  They’re regular officers who do a tour of the SWAT team once in a while.  I’d have to talk to several before I found out who the guy was, but if I could, maybe he could tell me where Angela was.

The next morning, I called Roger Ames, the captain of the local precinct.  Before I could tell him what I wanted, he said, “Harry, goddammit don’t tell me you shot somebody else.”

“No Roger, I didn’t shoot anybody.  I promised you I’d try not to do that again.  I am working on a case though, and I think one of your SWAT guys might know who I’m looking for.  Can I talk to them?”

Roger said the SWAT team was at the Academy for a training exercise, but he thought it would be OK if I talked to them while they were having lunch.

About eleven-thirty I drove over to the academy. It’s good to have friends in high places.  Roger had called the academy  and told them why I was coming, so it wasn’t any problem getting into the cafeteria.  

SWAT guys are a different breed of cat, but they have to be.  They’re the guys who take care of things the other officers aren’t trained to do like active shooters, mass riots, and shit like that.  They tend to be big guys and they’re all business when they’re on duty.  Off duty, they’re about like anybody else, but I don’t think I’d ever try to fuck with one of them.  It would probably hurt a lot and for a long time.

They were happy to help me out once they knew what I wanted.  Like I said, SWAT guys are still cops, and cops would rather help people than arrest them.  I sort of left out the part about Shelby.  I didn’t think the way he looked was relevant, and if I’d told them about that, they’d have laughed so hard I’d never have gotten anything out of them.

I was down to two guys and it was almost time for them to get back to their training exercise when I asked Mac Diaz if he knew a woman named Angela.  He looked at me and said, “Angela what?”

“Angela Marie Salvador-Anderson.”

He shook his head.

“I know an Angela Marie Salvador.  What does this Angela Marie Salvador-Anderson look like?”

I went through Angela’s description, and Mac grinned.

“Well, that sounds like her.  Why are you looking for her?”

“Her husband wants her back.”

Mac grinned.

“I didn’t know she was married, but that might explain a couple things.  What’s her husband like?”

I gave him a description of Shelby.  I left out the part about his pink clogs though.  Mac listened to me and then grinned again.

“Pink clogs, right?  I thought I saw her with him right before she walked up to me.  I didn’t know she was married to the scrawny little asshole.  I figured she was a lesbian and he was just another gay guy who’s friends with lesbians.”

Mac winked at me then.

“She wasn’t a lesbian though.”

I wasn’t about to ask him what they’d done, but I did ask him if he knew where she might be.  Mac grinned again.

“Hell yes, I do.  She’s living with me.  Might have to take another look at that if she’s married though.  I suppose you want to talk to her?”

I told Mac I really did need to talk to her because I had to tell her husband something.  He gave me his address.

“She’ll be home now.  I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming.”

Angela was everything Shelby had said and a whole lot more.  When I told her who I was, she said, “You must be the guy Mac called me about.  Come on in and I’ll tell you what happened.  You want a cup of coffee or a soda?”

Over coffee, Angela told me why she’d left Shelby, and why she hadn’t been in contact with him to tell him why.

“I met Shelby when I was a senior in high school and he was a senior at UT.  There was this feminist protest march in Nashville, and I went to it.  I mean, that’s all girls heard from the movie stars and women in politics, that women weren’t treated equally in the work force, that they made less money than men doing the same job, and that most men’s idea of how to treat a woman is to keep her barefoot and pregnant.  The girls in my class saw that with the boys in the class, and we didn’t like it.  All they ever wanted to do on a date was feel our boobs and try to get us to have sex.

“We were talking at lunch one day and when Lois said she was going to the protest march in Nashville, a bunch of us decided to go too.  We drove over and found where they were getting together, and I saw this guy there.  He was helping to organize things, and when we asked him what we should do, he handed us signs and said just to walk along with the others and yell what they were yelling.

“Shelby was a lot different than the boys at school.  He was a lot more mature and he talked like he was really sympathetic with the women’s movement.  I liked him for that and apparently he liked me.  I gave him my phone number and we talked a few times after that.

“When he got a job in Nashville, he called me and asked me out.  I was pretty thrilled.  We dated for six months and then he asked me to marry him.  I’ll tell you, I was just blown away by how he said we should treat our marriage because it was all about how I’d have all this freedom to do what I wanted.

“He kept his word about that.  The only thing we ever did together was sleep together and go to protests.  Shelby believed that as a man, he should show people a man could be what the feminists said a man should be, so he went to every feminist protest he could find.  It was the same with the lesbian protests.  Shelby said nobody had a right to criticize a woman for liking other women more than she liked me.  If he went to those protests too, he thought he was showing the women there was at least one man on their side.

“After two months of marching down the street with a bunch of women I didn’t know, I came to a couple of conclusions.  The first was a lot of those women just don’t like men.  It isn’t that they want an equal chance to compete with men, it’s that they want to be preferred over men because they think all men are jerks.

“The other conclusion I came to was I didn’t love Shelby like I thought I did.  Shelby’s a nice guy, but I thought he was a man.  He kind of is, I mean he liked having sex with me and it was pretty good, but at one of the protests, a guy pushed me and then got up in my face and said I just needed a real man to fuck me and I’d change my mind about men.  I thought Shelby would defend me.  Instead, he smiled at the guy and said that kind of conduct was exactly why the women were protesting.  Then he asked the guy if they could go have a cup of coffee and discuss it so he could explain what women really wanted from a relationship.

“Well, I mean, how would you feel?  I felt like he should have at least pushed the guy away from me.  When we went to the Pride march, it was even worse.  Another guy called me a pussy-licker and said one time with his big dick would cure me.  I told Shelby I thought we should leave before things got any worse.  Shelby smiled and said if we did, we wouldn’t be doing our civic duty to support people who were experiencing discrimination every day.  I was so pissed, I ust walked away.  That’s when I met Mac.  He was standing there in the alley watching the crowd, and when I walked toward him, he smiled at me.

“I looked at him in all that combat gear and he looked like he could take on most of the men at that march all by himself.  I smiled back and walked up to him and asked him why he needed all that stuff.  He said he probably wouldn’t unless somebody had a gun and he didn’t think any of the people there would get within ten feet of one.

“I stood there beside him until the march went past and then asked him when he got off.  I know, it was the wrong thing to do, but I was so pissed at Shelby.  Mac took me out for dinner and we ended up here.  He was so different from Shelby I couldn’t believe it.  

With Shelby, it was always, “do you like this”, “am I doing it too fast for you”, and other stuff like that when I just wanted him to shut up and take charge.  Mac took charge…damn, did he ever take charge.  I couldn’t believe how it felt because it never felt that great with Shelby.  That’s one of the reasons I’m still here, that and I don’t have to worry that Mac will do whatever it takes to make me feel safe.”

Well, I understood completely.  The only real question I had was one I couldn’t ask and that was why she hadn’t kicked Shelby in the balls after he didn’t defend her that first time.

“OK, I understand everything you just said, but why didn’t you let Shelby know you were leaving?  Most women would have.”

Angela looked at the floor.

“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.  Shelby got tears in his eyes when one of the lesbians said a straight guy shouldn’t be marching in a Pride march.  I hate to think what he’d have done if I told him I was leaving him.”

“Well, Angela, you’re going to have to tell him sometime.  I’ll have to tell him what I found out, but he probably won’t believe it’s over unless you tell him.”

She shook her head.

“I know that.  I just haven’t figured out a way to do it.  He’s such a nice guy and I don’t want to hurt him.”

I told Angela I’d try to break it to him gently, but she really should find a lawyer and divorce him if she was going to live with Mac.  I also said I was pretty sure Mac was going to tell her the same thing.  She nodded and said she’d been thinking about that.

I had enough to tell Shelby what was going on.  I didn’t really want to be the one to tell him though.  Like Angela said, I figured he was going to fall apart when I told him Angela wasn’t coming back.  I’ve had women cry in my office when I gave them the results of my investigation, and I have to just sit there until they stop.  Well, there have been a few I sort of uh… comforted, but usually, I just let them cry it out.  

If Shelby started tearing up, I’d have the urge to slap the shit out of him and tell him grow a set of balls and accept the fact Angela didn’t like him because he was a goddamned fucking wimp.

I did call him, and I felt that urge building as soon as he walked into my office.  His pink T-shirt said “The World Has Bigger Problems Than Boys Who Kiss Boys And Girls Who Kiss Girls”.  His shorts were blue instead of red, and the clogs this time were bright orange.  His purse was the same though.

I guess he thought I was staring at him because he smiled a wimpy smile.

“I’m going to a Pride rally this afternoon.  They really need the support.  So, I assume you found Angela.”

I nodded and decided to just tell him the facts.

“Yes, I found her.  She’s living with another guy, and she says she’s not coming back to you.”

His lower lip quivered a little.

“Where does she live?  I have to go talk to both of them.”

I’d have given my left nut to watch that conversation…all three seconds of it before Mack threw Shelby through the door, but I’d promised Angela I wouldn’t tell him that. Ethically, I should have just given Shelby her address and let things happen as they would but I liked Mac and I liked Angela, and my ethics tend to be pretty flexible.  I used what the DA usually calls “prosecutorial discretion”.  I just called it giving Shelby what he deserved for being such a jackass.

“Angela doesn’t want you to know where she lives.  She’ll contact you soon, I’m sure.  You should probably hire a lawyer and get ready for the divorce.”

Shelby was wiping his eyes when he left my office, but I couldn’t feel sorry for him.  I like women and I respect them for who they are.  I also know that with the exception of a few who go around wearing pink pussy hats, most women like a man to be a man.  That doesn’t mean they want some guy who orders them around like a slave.  Well, there are some who do like that, but most want a guy who makes them feel safe and secure.

To congratulate myself for not telling Shelby he wouldn’t be in this position if he’d been a little more like John Wayne and a lot less like Winnie The Pooh, I poured myself half a jelly glass of scotch and lit a cigarette.  I hoped that would be the last I ever saw of Gale Shelby Anderson and his goddamned clogs.

I was enjoying the hell out of both when my door opened and Shelby walked in.  No, not wimpy Shelby Anderson again.  This time it was Shelby Miller, the sexy blonde.  She grinned.

“Hi Harry.  How’s it going?”

Well, it was so-so until she walked through my door.  After she did, things started  clicking along very nicely.  Shelby Miller was what I needed to take my mind off Shelby Anderson.

She was the same Shelby except the first time she came to my office, she’d been wearing a conservative dress.  She’d worn dresses every other time I saw her as well, because I only saw her when she was either going to work or coming home from work.  That afternoon she was wearing a tank top with horizontal stripes that fit like a second skin and jeans that fit just about the same way.

My ex would never wear anything with horizontal stripes.  She said horizontal stripes made her ass look big.  Her ass was pretty big anyway, so I never argued with her.  I guess she was right though.  Shelby’s big tits looked bigger than I remembered them being.

The tight jeans were just icing on the cake, and I was thinking whoever baked that cake really knew what the hell they were doing.

I smiled back.

“I’m good.  I’m a lot better now that you walked in.  What can I do for you?  Homer didn’t come back, did he?”

Shelby frowned a little then.

“No.  I went to his trial today.  I feel kind of sorry for him now.  He doesn’t seem to be very smart and he just thought I liked him.  Why he was so infatuated by an older woman I’ll never be able to figure out, but that’s what he told the judge – he loved me and wanted to tell me that, but I would never answer the door when he knocked.

“He isn’t going to have to go to jail, and I’m kind of thankful for that.  The judge issued a restraining order like you said they would, and he has to go to counseling for a year.  I hope they can straighten him out.  I’m not sure they can though.  He didn’t really seem to understand why what he did was wrong.”

Shelby seemed to be a little down, so I tried to cheer her up a little.

“Well, I understand why he liked you.  You may be older than he is, but, you’re a woman most men would look at and then look again to make sure they weren’t just dreaming.”

Shelby grinned then.

“Oh Harry, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, it’s the truth.  I never lie about how a woman looks.  If she’s not very attractive, I just won’t say anything, but I always tell the truth about a woman who looks as good as you do.”

“You don’t think my boobs and butt are too big?  I always have.”

Shelby was still grinning, so I knew she didn’t really believe that.

“No, not at all.  I’d say you’re just this side of great.”

Shelby leaned forward and I discovered that tank top wasn’t as tight as I’d thought.  The low neck sort of fell open and showed me her big tits sitting in a black, lace bra.

“So, what would it take for you to say I’m all the way to great?”

Well, right then, I was thinking she’d be great if her big tits were swinging over my face while she fucked me cross-eyed.  I didn’t tell her that though.  I wanted to, but I didn’t know Shelby well enough to say anything like that to her.

“Well, maybe I was mistaken a little, because you’re already a great looking woman.”

“So, what else do you do with great looking women besides tell them they look great?”

I shrugged.

“It depends on the woman, I suppose.”

“Do you just talk or do you show them?”

I was starting to get the idea Shelby hadn’t dropped by just to tell me about Homer’s trial.

“I guess it would depend on what the woman wants.”

Shelby smiled.

“What if she wants you to do more than stare down the front of her top like you’ve been doing to me for the last few minutes?  It’s OK, by the way.  That’s why I wore this top, so you could look.”

Well, now I knew what she wanted.  I didn’t have the faintest fucking idea why, but I knew what she was after.

“Well, if I knew why she wanted me to do more, I probably would…if she looked as great as you do.”

Shelby let her fingertips glide over her right breast right where I figured her nipple would be.

“What if she said she hadn’t been with a man in over ten years and you were a man she trusts?  What would you do then?”

Well, I thought I’d get to drive more than I did, but that was OK with me given how things turned out.  

After I locked my office door and invited Shelby to see my bedroom she smiled that smile at me.  Her top ended up on the kitchen table between my office and the bedroom.  She stopped beside the hall closet long enough to hang her bra over the doorknob.  She had her jeans unzipped by the time we walked through the bedroom door.  After I closed the door behind us, I turned around and saw her laying on her back and trying to peel her jeans down her legs.  

She looked up at me and smiled.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I came to see you that first day.  You won’t disappoint me, will you?”

The way her big tits were rolling around as she worked her jeans down over her ass and legs was pretty awesome.  So were the little pink thong panties that didn’t quite cover her dark brown bush.  I helped Shelby out of her jeans and then took off my clothes.

I still didn’t know why she’d picked me, but I wasn’t about to argue about that.  I just stretched out beside her and cupped her pussy through her pink panties.  

Shelby grinned.

“For a minute back there, I thought you were going to tell me no.  This is more like what I wanted you to do.”

I stroked the soft lips under the thin, shiny material and grinned when Shelby’s hips jerked a little.

“What would I have to do so I was doing everything you were thinking about.”

Shelby pulled my hand from her pussy to her heavy right tit.

“Oh, fucking me until I can’t move would be a good start.  I have a lot of time to make up so I’m not talking about making love to me.  Fucking is the only word that says what I need right now.”

Well, they’ve been saying “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” since I can remember.  They also say, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”, and I can attest to that being true.  Nobody ever said, “Not getting herself laid for ten years makes Shelby horny as a cat in heat”, but I guess that must be true too.

I like to think I can figure out what a woman likes best and make it better for both of us.  That’s usually how it seems to work out anyway.  In Shelby’s case, I didn’t have to figure anything out.  She kept telling me.

When I cupped her heavy right breast, Shelby purred out, “Mmm…suck my nipple now”.  When I did that , she pulled my hand down to her pussy and spread her thighs wide enough my fingertip slipped between her pussy lips.  Her hips lurched a little and she murmured, “Suck a little harder and make me wet”.

Well, that happened a lot faster than I thought it would.  I was sucking away at first one thick, stiff nipple and then the other and sliding a finger inside her pussy.  I felt her pussy sort of suck in and then push out against my hand, and then a little flow of wet warmth.  After a few more of those little strokes, my finger felt both slippery and sticky at the same time, and Shelby was moaning with each stroke.  I slipped another finger in beside the first and Shelby groaned.

“Oh fuck, you got me going so good.  Do my clit now.”

It’s never been ten years of not getting myself fucked for me, so I can’t attest to how that feels.  What I know is it didn’t take very many strokes to Shelby’s swollen clit until she started stroking my stiff cock, and it didn’t take many more of those strokes before she pulled on my cock and murmured, “Put your dick in me  and fuck me”.

I was thinking that since it had been ten years for Shelby, I should probably go slow.  That’s what I tried to do, just inch my cock inside her stroke by stroke.  It worked for about four strokes.  Then, Shelby grabbed my ass and moaned, “Stop messing around with me Harry.  All the way in, one push all the way in”.

Well, that was pretty wild.  Shelby was slippery as hell inside, but tighter than I expected, so I did have to push a little.  She gasped “Oh”, when my cock went home, and then rocked her ass a little and moaned a little short “Oh” again when it went in a little deeper.  That’s about when I groaned because she clamped her pussy down on my cock just as I was stroking back out.

I’d also thought that since it had been ten years for Shelby, she might not be quite as responsive as some women.  Well, Shelby might not have used it for ten years, but she sure as hell hadn’t lost anything.  Like I said before, I like to drive at least part of the time, and I was, sort of.  It was more like I’d start something and Shelby would take over and finish it for me.  

When I started my cock back inside her, she’d lift her hips up and push up, so really, all I had to do was just hold still.  I couldn’t do that, of course.  I suppose it’s just instinct, but once my cock head feels the first ripple, I just have to go in all the way.  That made for some interesting collisions where I was pushing down and Shelby was pushing up and when we met, I felt her pussy lips getting mashed into her spread thighs.  

When I stroked out, she let her pussy fall back down and that was interesting too.  She got ahead of me a couple times and my cock slipped out.  That cause her to lift her pussy up again, and what happened is my cock missed the entrance and sort of slid up over her clit.  That made Shelby start rocking her pussy up and down so my shaft was rubbing the swollen little button.  I’d have to push her down with one hand and then guide my cock back inside her.

I kept feeling her hands on my back or on my ass and pulling me into her.  I was OK with that.  It was when she moaned really loud and dug her nails into my ass cheeks it got to me.  I was hoping Shelby was close because she didn’t stop and those nails were taking me there really fast.  She gave me something to do that took my mind off that though.

Shelby picked up her right tit and pushed the nipple in my face.  She kept holding it there until I started sucking on it.  That’s when all hell broke loose.  

Other than lifting her pussy up into every stroke and digging her nails into my ass cheeks, Shelby had been pretty calm.  As soon as I gave that nipple a good hard suck and then licked the tip, Shelby gasped, dug her heels into the mattress and lifted us both up.

She was strong for a woman, and she didn’t flop back down on the mattress.  She started making little moans and I could feel her slide her hand down to her clit and start rubbing.  When I closed my teeth on her nipple just a little, Shelby yelped and her whole body jerked.  That cause her tit to pull away, but I still had that nipple between my teeth.  Shelby yelped again when her nipple got jerked through my teeth, then started to pant, and I felt the finger on her clit start rubbing for all it was worth.

She murmured something I didn’t really understand, except it started with “Oh, fuck…don’t…oh fuck, oh fuck…”  After that it was just mumbled gibberish until she just arched a little higher, held her breath for a few seconds and then cried, “Oh God” and started to stroke her pussy over my cock so fast I came a second later.  She was still doing that when I shot the last spurt in her clasping passage.

She stayed up in the air and massaged my cock with her pussy while I kept stroking in and out slowly.  A few seconds later, she collapsed on the mattress and giggled.

“Oh, fuck.  For a while there, I couldn’t see.”

“Well, you had your eyes closed.”

Shelby giggled again.

“Oh, maybe that was why.  Wanna do it again while I keep my eyes open?”

Well, we did, and Shelby did keep her eyes open this time.  When she stopped rocking her pussy over my cock and fell back down, she grinned.

“You look really funny when you cum, but it’s nice to know I made you look that way.”

I’ve never seen my face when I cum, but I didn’t think it would look funny.  I wasn’t pissed that she’d said that, though.  Shelby could have said I was as ugly as a mud fence after I’d cum like that and I wouldn’t have said a word.  I don’t know if she stored all that up for ten years and I was the lucky guy who let it loose again, but she was sure a fantastic fuck.

Shelby was great the next morning too.  I woke up because she was sitting on my thighs and playing with my cock.  She grinned when I looked up at her.  

“I thought I’d be your alarm clock.  It’s time to ring your bell.”

Shelby shook my cock then.

“Ding, ding, ding…time to stand up.”

Well, my cock did stand up enough Shelby could sit on it and impale pussy with it.  She rode my cock every bit as good as she’d fucked the night before.  The only difference was she kept her tits with reach of my mouth, and switched nipples when she felt like it. She fingered her clit that time too, and when she came, I thought she was going to break the boards under the mattress.  She might have if I hadn’t been cumming so hard I was bouncing her ass up with every stroke.  

When she stretched out on top of me and mashed her tits into my chest, she purred, “Harry, thank you.”

I chuckled.

“You didn’t give me much choice.  You were on top of me when I woke up.”

“No, I don’t mean this morning.  I mean what you did for me with Homer.”

“I just did what you paid me to do.”

She kissed me on the cheek then.

“I know, but you were nice about it.  Not once did you stare at me like you were thinking I deserved what was happening to me.  That’s what Homer’s lawyer tried to tell the jury, that I’d given Homer the idea I wanted him.”

“Well, I could tell you didn’t want anything to do with the guy.”

She kissed me on the mouth then and before she stopped, I was feeling some life in my cock again.  Shelby felt it too.

“Gee, something’s poking my tummy.  I wonder what that might be.  I think I’ll find out.”

Well, she did.  My cock didn’t get very hard, but it got hard enough Shelby managed to stuff it in her pussy.  I came again too, not as hard as she did, but I did cum.  After that, Shelby kissed me again and said she wished she could stay but she really needed to do some shopping.  

It was a bitch to get up, dress, and then walk Shelby to my front door because she’d pretty much fucked me until it was hard to move.  The only thing Shelby seemed to be was happy.  I smiled and said “Whenever you want, Shelby”, when she said she might be back one of these days, but inside, I was hoping it wouldn’t be too soon.  My cock was telling me it needed a few days off.

After Shelby left, I walked into my kitchen and started the coffee maker.  While it gurgled away, I sat at my kitchen table trying to decide if I should go back to bed for the rest of the morning or tough it out and try to get some work done.

Two cups of coffee later, I figured I was as mobile as I was going to get, so I poured a third cup and carried it into my office.  After a cigarette and half that cup of coffee, I was feeling mostly human again.  

That lasted until my office door opened and Shelby walked in again.  No, not the Shelby who’d just fucked me to a frazzle and left my office humming to herself, the pussy Shelby with clogs.

He was frowning, so I thought maybe he was pissed that Angela wouldn’t let me tell him where she lived.  I wasn’t worried that he was going to start something.  If I had him pegged right, Shelby wouldn’t ever do anything like that.  Even if he did, I figured even as whipped as I was, I could take him without breaking a sweat.  

As it turned out, Shelby wasn’t pissed at me.  He wanted to thank me.

“Mr. Meers, Angela called me this morning and told me she was going to divorce me.  I thought I’d be really upset, but I’m actually not.  When she told me the reason was I didn’t make her feel safe, I realized Angela was a nice girl, but she’s pretty immature because she’s so young.  I just wanted to thank you for finding her and telling her she should let me know what’s going on.  

“I’ve been thinking that the feminist movement is maybe not the place to find a life partner.  I agree with what they want, but most of them seem to be a little on the cool side where men are concerned.  I’m going to a climate change protest next week, and I think my chances of finding a partner who thinks like I do will be better there.  Thanks to you, I can get on with my life now and find another woman to share that life with.”

I was tempted to stand up, grab him by his scrawny neck and throw him and his T-shirt that said, “The Climate Is Changing.  Why Aren’t We?” out of my office.  It wasn’t what his shirt said.  I don’t know if it’s climate change or if I’m just older, but our Tennessee summers do seem to be getting hotter, so I don’t argue about climate change.  It wasn’t his purple boxer shorts or his green clogs either.  It was the fact that Shelby was such an egotistical asshole he thought Angela was too immature for him.

Thankfully, he left before I could do that.  I’d have felt good about doing it at the time, but it would have fucked up my day.  I may be a heartless bastard like my ex always said I was, but I’d have felt bad later.  Shelby was just a guy who was so fucking dumb about women he wasn’t ever going to find one who wanted to live with him.  I seriously doubted he’d ever find one who thought about even fucking him once, well, unless it was one of those “mercy fucks” you hear women talk about.

No, Shelby was probably going to go through life protesting every goddamned thing under the sun and hoping to find a woman that doesn’t exist.  Well, I know one woman who’d probably like him.  I just don’t think he’d like her.  I know her real name, Virginia Ann Beech, but she goes by the name of “Mistress Maven” at her job.  

There is one private club in Nashville that caters to men who like to be dominated, and Mistress Maven not only owns “Dark Desires”, but she’s one of the women who make those men feel good by making them feel bad.  How the hell that works is beyond me but it does.  

There are four of them in total.  The other three are Vixen Vivian, Sheila de Sade, and Dominatrix Desiree - Judy Carrothers, Kathy Manx, and Cindy Mason in real life.  Judy, Kathy, and Cindy play their parts very well, or so Virginia tells me, because she taught them how.  

Virginia isn’t playing.  Virginia is very serious about what she does.  She’d probably love leading Shelby around on a leash and whipping his skinny ass to keep him in line and then making him lick her pussy while she slapped his cock and balls with her flogger.  She offered to show me how great that would feel and her pussy did look tempting, but that whip and flogger were too much for me.   Judy is about my age and she did tell me she sometimes liked to be just fucked, so maybe one of these days, I’ll drop by Dark Desires and see if she’d like to have a drink with me when she gets off work.

Well, it’s getting on toward five in the afternoon.  That’s when I pour myself half a jelly jar of Glenfiddich and light a cigarette to congratulate myself for making it through another day without shooting some asshole or getting kicked in the balls.  Tomorrow morning, I have to start looking for Melissa’s husband.  According to her, he’d sent her a text message one afternoon and said he wasn’t coming back home and not to look for him because he’d decided to start a new life without her weighing him down.

Melissa doesn’t want him back.  She just wants to know where he is so her lawyer will know where to send the summons for the divorce hearing.  I could understand that.  I didn’t understand what he’d meant by her weighing him down unless it was Melissa’s big tits.  They just seem hot to me, especially since Melissa doesn’t seem to like bras that give her much support.  I kept watching her tits move around because Melissa uses her hands a lot when she talks.  I had to keep clearing my mind of the vision of those big tits wobbling around in my face while she rode my cock.

Maybe she’ll be really happy with me when I find Jasper for her.  I hope so.

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